My Promise
by Merwholocked628
Summary: Germany is having visions of a little girl with a push broom. he doesn't know her name, he just knows that he loves her. GERMANY IS HOLY ROME! FLUFF! ONE SHOT!


**One Shot that popped into my head and I absolutely had to write down. So here we go, in case you didn't read the summary, GerIta, Germany is (was) Holy Rome. I do not own Hetalia, but I did meet the English voice actor for Germany! (Does that make me Germany's owner? Probably not, sadness) Country names used!**

Germany had been having visions for weeks now; they were bright and uncomfortable and showed the same image over and over, a little girl thrusting a push broom in his direction.

Groaning, the country rubbed his sore head. Who was this little girl? She seemed familiar. In these visions she never spoke, just handed the broom to him, but she always seemed sad, on the verge of crying, like some one had just broken her heart.

And even though, in these visions, they never spoke Germany could feel emotions stirring inside him, emotions he had sworn never to feel, love, longing, grief, sadness. All from looking at one little girl he didn't even know the name of.

"Germany!" He heard a cheerful voice call from the other room. A too cheerful voice. "I made pasta Germany!"

"The Potato Bastard doesn't need any pasta!" Another voice said. Great, Romano was here too.

"Fratello! He's my friend so he gets pasta!" Italy chirped back at his brother.

Romano grumbled something unintelligible as the blonde country decided to make an appearance.

"Here you go!" Italy, in his pink apron, which looked very familiar for some reason, thrust a steaming bowl of noodles at him.

Romano shot a glare at Germany and said something that was probably "Potato Bastard"

Germany turned his way to yell his own insult when he saw what was in the other Italians hand.

Romano was holding a push broom! He had a handkerchief tied around his head, with that and his apron, which matched his brothers he looked a lot like the little girl in Germany's visions.

"What?!" Romano's voice demanded. Apparently Germany had been staring.

"N-nothing." Hmm, that was odd, he's never stuttered before. "Just, I'm-I'm not hungry."

Romano rolled his eyes and muttered something about unappreciative Germans before going back to his sweeping.

"Germany Ve? What's wrong?" Italy looked over at his friend curiously. "Are you sick? Do you need healing pasta?"

"Nein, I'm fine." What was healing pasta? Italians are weird. Before the two brothers could ask any more questions or, in Romano's case, throw something at him, Germany ran (or as he would say in later years, calmly walked) out of the house.

The crisp fall air helped him get his jumbled thoughts in order. Was Romano that little girl? Surely he hadn't been in love with ROMANO once upon a time. His head started pounding and visions started flickering behind his eyelids, quickly he found a place to sit and let them over take his thoughts. And this time, the little girl talked.

It was the same vision, except now there were voices.

"_What to people give in your country to say goodbye?" _Germany heard himself say.

The girl, who might or might not be Romano, thought for a moment, tears welling in her eyes.

"_A kiss."_ She answered softly.

So Germany gave one to her.

"_I'll come back, I promise." _He told her as he walked away. And he had the sinking feeling that he never did.

And also unlike all other times more visions accompanied this one.

He has been walking through the grounds of a big house when he saw the girl working, while clutching her stomach and mumbling something that sounded like _"Hungry."_

She was hungry! Aha! He could fix that! He rushed to the kitchen and grabbed whatever looked good to him. The finest German sausages, fine cheeses, fresh-made bread, freshly picked fruits, and packed it all in a basket. Then he came back to where the girl was. To his surprise she had been locked in the cellar for 'not doing her job properly.' Too shy to bring it to her directly he left it for her to find.

He watched as she opened the lid and took out some of the food inside. She seemed to like it at first and then said in a high soprano

"_This is crap!" _And refused to eat any more of it.

One more vision of the little girl came to Germany. And he still wasn't convinced it wasn't Romano.

He had been swimming in the lake by his house, enjoying the cool water on the hot summer day when a voice came from behind.

"_Holy Rome!" _Huh? Why did that girl call her Holy Rome, Germany didn't understand although he felt himself turn at the name.

The little girl was coming in! She was coming closer and closer, with that big smile on her face. He felt himself scuttle back.

"_Italia!" _He heard himself cry. Wait! The name brought Germany out of the visions.

It was Italy? Italy had been the little gir-no boy? He had fallen in love with Italy? He shook his head, smiling over the visions no memories of little Italy and him. Secret boat rides, stolen food, push brooms.

And suddenly he remembered all of it. Germany had once been Holy Roman Empire; he had been called to war and had had to leave his love behind.

Germany could now remember the battle, his citizens dying all around him, the hot stench that had threatened to choke him that day. It had looked like he was winning until the enemy had snuck up from behind and stabbed him in the back (literally.) He remembered falling to his knees; it was getting harder to breath.

'_I'm sorry, Italia.' _He had thought _'I broke my promise.' _A painful blow was brought down on his skull and darkness over came him.

Germany had thought he had died. But he awoke some time later, with no memory of how he came to be there.

He was told that he was Germany, he was given training, and a house, and a little brother to look after and the country went on believing that he was 'Germany' and he had always been 'Germany.'

He knew better now. He was Holy Rome, and he was about to fulfill his promise.

"Just throw it away!" Romano yelled at his brother, thrusting the push broom at him. "It barely makes a dent in the dirt!"

"No!" Italy shouted back. "I gave it to Holy Rome and he lost it! So I'll give it back to him when he comes back!"

"Fratello! It's been ten years! He's never coming back!" Romano said harshly "He DIED Italy! Just face it HE. DIED!"

Tears streaked down Italy's face, he shook his head fiercely "No. I refuse to believe it. Holy Rome didn't die. He's just…lost."

Germany cleared his throat to make his presence known.

"Germany!" The usually cheerful Italian perked up again. "Your back-What are you wearing?" Joy turned to confusion when the younger country noticed what the blonde had put on.

Germany blushed. He had found a version of his old clothes in his attic, back when he was Holy Rome. And to his surprise, they fit.

"Uh, I, uh, figured out what those visions were."

"Yes?" Italy looked very confused.

"What do people give in your country to say hello?" Germany asked mirroring his words from long ago.

Italy looked overjoyed "A kiss." He answered running into the blonde mans arms.

"I remembered Italia. I kept my promise."

"I knew you would."

**Fluff. So much fluff.**


End file.
